


Undercover

by fvckingavengers



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Oral Sex, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24010702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fvckingavengers/pseuds/fvckingavengers
Summary: Steve is an asshole because he has suppressed feelings for you and it leads to bad blood that ends in sex.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 165





	Undercover

The moon and stars do little to illuminate the night with the street lamps and neon signs lighting up the Sunset strip. Steve ducks into a place called Lap of Luxury, a newly opened gentlemen’s club. Music thumps loudly from the surrounding speakers. It sends vibrations from his feet and throughout his body as he walks further into the vast room. Blue and purple lights guide his path to the bar where he takes a seat and orders a whiskey neat.

No one pays him any mind. His Captain America persona had been shed years ago, but he still works missions on the down low. The Avengers disassembled with his departure, inevitably sending each member of the team in their own direction. He still kept tabs with Natasha and Sam. Often worked and fought alongside them. But he was here on his own accord.

He runs a hand though his long, thick hair and sighs heavily as he scans over the crowd. He brings his glass to his mouth and takes a long swig as he assesses the room. There’s a large stage for the performers, rows of plush chairs and couches for the patrons, and a line of smaller rooms with vails drawn over the threshold for private dances. Steve was so focused and deep in thought that he didn’t notice a figure pass in front of him and take advantage of the free barstool to his left.

“What the hell are you doing here?” The voice is loud enough to hear over the music, but low enough not to draw unwanted attention.

Steve looks to his side and has to do a double take. His eyes linger, looking over your appearance. The makeup, the long rose gold wig that cascades halfway down your back, and the form fitting dress with a jaw dropping neckline to expose your ample cleavage. You keep your head forward as you nurse your martini, never looking at him full on.

“Heard this place puts on a good show. Came to check it out.” His gruff voice rumbles as he too keeps his gaze on the stage.

His poor excuse makes you scoff. “You traveled 2800 miles to come to a titty bar? Have Romanoff teach you how to lie better.” You roll your eyes and motion for the bartender to refresh your drink as you finish the first one. “Back off, Steve.” Your warning is aggressive, borderline mean. “I’ve been working this case for the last two months. I’ve done all the work leading up to this and all I have left to do is make the kill.”

In the past, Steve would have argued with you to take the dirtbag down in a non-lethal manner. But he couldn’t care less at this point. He won’t admit it, but he trusts your judgement.

“I’m not here to take over your mission.” He says gruffly. “Nat asked me to come check up on you. She was concerned.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m doing just fine. Have a safe trip back to the island. Maybe I’ll see you in another two years.” Your voice drips with distain as you rise to your feet, finishing off your drink and sauntering off without as much as a look back at Steve.

His jaw clenches. The grip around his glass tightens and his breath is ragged. He pulls out a few bills and places them on the bar as he stands to his feet.

“Don’t you wanna see your friend?” The bartender speaks up as she mixes drinks for the other patrons. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you said you came for the show, huh? She’s up next.” She nods to the stage before going back to her tasks.

Steve furrows his brow and looks in the direction of the spacious platform. He finds himself walking closer, his legs finding a mind of their own despite his brain trying to regain control of them. He takes a load off in one of the large, plush chairs. The music booms louder. The sensual guitar riffs make his heart pound harder in his chest. He’s more curious than anything. When Natasha told him you got a job at the club, he assumed it was as a waitress.

His thoughts leave him when he sees you emerge from the side of the stage clad in black lingerie. Your hips sway to the music as you strut to the center of the stage. Your hands run through your hair and follow the curves of your body. Steve’s eyes watch every move you make with such intensity that it makes a smirk spread across your face. You focus your attention back on your target as you saunter over to the polished silver pole.

-

After your routine, you met your unsuspecting admirer in one of the private rooms. The music was loud enough to ensure that his screams couldn’t be heard over the bass. You left his body behind the drawn curtains and snuck out through the back - thankful that the lack of lighting hid the considerable amount of blood that stained your skin and clothes. The bastard managed to get in a few good blows and a fair sized slash to your right side.

Steve was long gone. On the jet back home, you hoped. You made a mental note to scold Natasha for sending him out, implying that you couldn’t handle yourself or the mission you were given. But there was more than enough time for that later. Right now all you want is a hot shower and to sleep for two days.

The keycard allows you access to your hotel room. When Steve and Tony had their fallout, you didn’t choose sides. But Stark still looked out for you and insisted he help in any way he could. Which usually meant keeping you housed in a secure, upscale hotel. To which, you really couldn’t refuse.

You set your bag on the table and shed your clothes as you make your way to the bathroom, leaving a trail leading up to the door. You turn the water on as hot as it will go and step in when steam flows from the spout. The warmth engulfs you, makes your eyes flutter closed at the wanted sensation. Through the darkness, you see his face. You will it away, but it remains unfaultered.

**

_Paris. September. When the city is at its most glorious state. Summer is over and it’s that time of year where the weather is just perfect, still warm enough to have your skin exposed but when the wind blows it makes goosebumps appear on your flesh._

_The breeze is peaceful and the view is breathtaking. Steve sits across from you at the small round table, scowling as he inspects the surrounding area from his seat. You push a pair of dark Tom Ford sunglasses across the table and push your white Dior frames up the bridge of your nose._

_“Sun in your eyes, darling?” You question, smiling in thanks to the waiter who refills your coffee. When the man leaves the two of you, you sit up straighter, prop your elbow on the table and rest your chin in your hand. “You have to at least act the part of my newlywed husband. Put a damn smile on your face and enjoy our fake honeymoon instead of drawing attention and potentially blowing our cover.”_

_“She’s right, Rogers.” Sam’s voice crackles from the com in his ear. He’s stationed at The Eiffel Tower only a couple blocks away, keeping a birds eye view on the targets, sitting only three tables away from you and Steve. “You don’t wanna cause suspicion, sell your role.”_

_Steve rolls his eyes and puts the shades on. He scoots his chair closer to you and rests a hand on your bare knee, the sundress you wear flowing along with the wind. You make absentminded small talk, giggling every so often and exchanging soft touches._

_Your body stiffens when Steve’s hand brushes along your thigh. He grins at the way you react and leans in closer to whisper in your ear. “You’re worried about me blowing our cover when your dress is so short, skirt riding the breeze and showing off your thigh holster? I thought you were done making rookie mistakes by now.”_

**

The memory makes your fingernails dig deeper into your scalp as you wash away the suds in your hair. Your jaw clenches and you exhale sharply through your nose.

**

_“Those of you on this crew, pack up. You leave at 0800. Those of you staying behind, you’re not off the hook. You’re on call in case anyone should need to be replaced.” Fury closes his file and gathers his scattered documents while everyone else moves around the briefing room._

_Steve makes long strides to the director, speaking in an angered but hushed tone. It isn’t until you get up to start packing that you overhear the conversation._

_“Why do you think I chose the team this time? Because I knew if I gave you the option, you wouldn’t pick her. She’s a completely competent and qualified agent. If you can’t see that, that’s not my problem. And if there’s a personal issue, I suggest you get over it. I don’t have time for this, Rogers. And frankly, neither do you. Stand down and get your shit together before you get your ass suspended.” Fury sighs and shakes his head, brushing past Steve._

_Before he has the chance to leave, you put a hand to his chest and push him backwards. “You’re the reason I’ve been benched from missions? I’ve barely left this place all month and it’s because you don’t wanna pick me to be on your team?”_

_“You’re a risk. Still have a lot to learn. I can’t spend my time babysitting you and making sure you don’t get your ass killed.” He matches your anger and takes advantage of his towering height._

_You scoff, unfazed by his intimidation tactic. “Whatever, Steve. Act your fucking age instead of acting like a teenager.” You give one more push to his chest before storming out to pack your bags._

**

The need for sleep outweighs your want to stay in the shower longer than necessary. When the shower shuts off and the patter of the water slamming against the tile floor ceases, everything is silent. Uncomfortably so.

You can smell him. He always smelled the same. Like soap and his own special kind of musk. You carefully slip into a t-shirt and a pair of panties, damning his modesty in turn for your comfort. Your footsteps are soft and silent as you pad over to the nightstand, grabbing the pistol you keep there. You use your foot to swiftly open the door and you point the gun at the man lounging on the couch in front of the muted television.

“You’re not gonna shoot me.” Steve says, clearly unfazed as he looks up at you.

The click of the safety being turned off makes him tilt his head. His eyes darken. “Two years ago I wouldn’t have shot you. But you’re not my Captain anymore. You’re just an intruder with some goddamn nerve.”

“Am I not your friend anymore either?” His voice is considerably softer.

“Friend? Steve, we were never friends. You made it abundantly clear on numerous occasions that our relationship was strictly professional, no matter how hard I tried to be your friend. You always undermined me, babied me, all for what - because I was the youngest on the team?” He stays silent, letting your words sink in. “What are you even doing here, Steve? What compelled you to come to my hotel instead of just going back home?”

Steve thinks about what lead him there. Thinks about how he acted towards you when The Avengers were still going strong. You have the right to be confused. He barely paid attention to you, he made it seem as if you were hardly on his radar. Never wanted you going on missions that seemed too difficult or fatal.

“You’re bleeding.” Steve grumbles.

You lower the gun and furrow your brow. “What?”

“You’re bleeding.” He repeats, getting up from the chair and striding toward you.

You hadn’t felt the sting of the injury until you saw the spreading crimson stain on your t-shirt. You curse under your breath, reengage the safety on the gun and head to the bathroom. Steve follows quietly. He leans against the doorframe and watches you in the mirror as you lift the side of your shirt. Small beads of blood trickle down your side.

“You need stitches.”

“What I need is for you to tell me why you’re here or for you to get the fuck out of my hotel room.” You bark back, annoyed by his presence and the situation at hand.

Steve rolls his eyes and trudges closer. He turns you to face him and holds your arms in a vice grip to hold your attention. His eyes are dark and through the scruff of his cheeks, you could still see the protruding muscle of his clenched jaw.

“You can’t go to the hospital because you still have a cover to maintain. You can’t stitch yourself up because you pass out at the sight of excessive blood. So you’re gonna shut up and let me help you. Do you understand?”

You say nothing. Just lower your gaze and purse your lips, giving a curt nod. Steve steps out of the bathroom briefly and returns with the bottle of vodka he had seen in the small kitchen when he entered the suite. You snatch it from his hand and guzzle the clear liquid, ignoring the sting in your throat. Steve digs through your medical bag, fishing for the items he needs to aid your open wound. He gestures for you to sit on the counter space while he cleans the gnash and you busy yourself with threading the needle.

He gives you little warning before penetrating your flesh. You hiss through your teeth and it echoes around the bathroom. The glare you give him makes the corner of his lips curl slightly.

“You still take my orders like I’m your Captain.” He boasts smugly as he weaves the needle through your skin.

“Either shut the fuck up or answer the question I’ve repeatedly asked you all night.” You scoff and bring the bottle to your lips for another long swig. “I know Nat didn’t send you check up on me. Which means you came here on your own. Why?” You watch his expression change. He becomes more tense.

He licks his lips and refocuses his attention on your injury. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so why don’t you tell me what you wanna hear?”

“Try me.” You challenge with a sharp laugh. “What’s the worst you can say? That you’ve had feelings for me all this time and the only way you could suppress them was to be a dick to me?” He says nothing. His head slowly raises so that he could meet your gaze. By staying silent, he gives you his answer. “You gotta be shitting me.”

“Nope.” He shakes his head and presses his lips into a thin line. “Pretty much hit the nail on the head.”

You stare back at him, mouth gaped and brows furrowed until a laugh erupts from the back of your throat. “Could you be anymore of a cliché, Rogers?”

“Look, it’s not like I’ve been doting after you since day one. It started as a mild attraction. Watching you out on the field. The way you move, the way you carry yourself — the attraction became more,” Steve cuts the excess thread and stands up straight. He twirls the twine between his fingers as he looks at you. “Became more sexual. Always had Bucky and Sam reminding me of our age difference—“

“That’s rich.” You interrupt him with a scoff. “Barnes sure as hell didn’t have any repercussions about our age difference when we hooked up last year.”

Steve’s jaw clenches and the faint sound of the string popping makes you kink a brow. “That son of a bitch gave me shit for lusting over you and he goes and takes you for himself?”

“Okay, first of all, I’m not an object that anyone has possession over. But yeah, that sounds like exactly what he did.” You take a long sip from the bottle before offering it to Steve.

He wraps his hand around the neck and chugs, vodka spilling out from the corners of his lips. “M’gonna kill him.”

You roll your eyes and reach over into the bag for a large bandage to cover your scar while it heals. “He’s your best friend. You’re not gonna kill him.”

“He’s the one who got into my head the most. Made me believe you were forbidden fruit that if I had a taste, I’d be poisoned.”

“How poetic.” You tease and fix your shirt to cover your torso. “What exactly makes you think I’d let you have a taste anyway?”

Your words trigger something within Steve. His eyes somehow turn a darker shade of blue and the look he gives you is nothing short of feral. He looks at you as if you’re his prey as he stalks forward, caging you between his arms. Your legs instinctively spread to accommodate him and it almost makes you blush.

“Habit.” You shrug, hoping he’ll believe you.

“You’ve never thought about it?” His voice is deep and raspy as he speaks. “Not even once? Late at night when you’re all alone and you’re restless, my face never crept into your mind when you had to get yourself off just to fall asleep? ‘Cause all I’ve done is think about it. Imagined what it would feel like to have you ride my face before you ride my cock. Pictured all the different ways, places, positions I could make you come undone.”

Your lips are parted and your breathing labors. You would’ve missed the soft, breathless whimper you emitted if it weren’t for Steve’s devilish grin. He snakes a hand between your bodies and runs the side of his index finger along the middle of your panties, humming when he feels the damp material, clearly satisfied that his words effected you so. He pushes the fabric to the side and traces along your folds with the pads of his middle and ring fingers.

“You can deny it as much as you want. But a wet pussy never lies.” He holds his hand up and wiggles his slick coated appendages. “May I?” He doesn’t bother waiting for your answer before he sucks his fingers into his mouth, groaning when the taste of you hits his tongue.

Just the sight of him makes your walls clench, desperately seeking something to constrict around. You close your parted mouth and lick over your lips as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“I guess I can forgive you for being an ass all that time, under one condition.” Steve tilts his head, silently urging you to continue with your circumstance. A grin spreads across your face as you pull him closer by his belt loops. One of your hands cards through his thick hair while the other runs down his chest, feeling each divot of his perfectly carved muscles. “Fuck me.” You breathe against his lips.

“Darlin’,” Steve wraps an arm around your back and lifts you to yank your panties down your thighs. “I thought you’d never ask.”

You pull his shirt above his head and let it drop to the floor just as he does the same for you. Steve kicks off his shoes and sets you on the floor, the freezing cold tile stinging your feet upon contact. You have little time to think about it when you realize he’s done away with his jeans and underwear and his tip is at your entrance.

He teases you at first, coating his length in your dripping sweetness without even passing through your barriers. He turns you so that you’re both facing the mirror, your back to his chest, feeling his heart pound against the muscle. You grip the edge of the counter top and brace yourself, knowing his girth will stretch you in ways you had gone a long while without. 

Steve gets a hold on the roots of your hair, pulling your head back and sinking his teeth into the side of your neck as he slowly pushes in. He hisses at the tight fit and growls when he sees your eyes flutter closed.

“Nuh uh, you’re gonna watch. Watch me fuck you.” He demands, rocking his hips slowly until there’s enough give for him to quicken his pace.

You’re already wrecked and he’s barely even begun making up for the time he’s lost. You bring his hand to your breast and he kneads the flesh instinctively, rolling your nipple between his fingers and tugging, wavering on the line of pleasure and pain. His thrusts hold strong, and you’re almost ashamed by the fact that you’re already teetering on the verge of orgasm. He grunts in your ear, it’s husky and ragged from the way you squeeze him. He senses that you’re close.

“Gonna cum already, princess?” He chuckles darkly, boasting proudly.

You wanna snark back. Wanna spit words like venom to put him in his place. But the ability to speak is gone when he snaps his hips so deliciously against yours.

“Steve,” You warn, your impending climax approaching steadily.

“Do it. Let go for me. Gimme your all, baby.”

His words of encouragement are all you need for it to wash over you. Body shaking and convulsing violently until your knees give out from under you. Steve catches you swiftly, holds you close to his chest and shushes your cries as you come down from your high.

He slides out of you, completely drenched in your slick, and grins. He gives a swat to your ass and rubs the sting away, gently pushing you toward the bedroom.

“M’not done with you yet. Not even close.” He shakes his head and throws you onto the bed, watching as your breasts bounce from the fast action. “Spread your legs for me. Open up wide.”

You obey his order and as if like a magnet being pulled by a stronger force, he’s on his stomach with his arms around your thighs and his tongue lapping at your folds. The control you once had over your vocal cords is no longer in tact. Whimpers and whines and sharp cries scratch out of your throat as Steve suckles on your clit, reveling at the way you taste.

“S-Steve,” You stutter as your back arches. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, just narrows his eyes as he looks up at you over your mound. You roll your eyes in exasperation and tug at his hair. “Captain.”

“Yes?” He grins smugly, the word muffled.

“I wanna — wanna ride you.”

Steve’s smirk never falters as he crawls up your body. He tugs at your left nipple with his teeth and licks over the hardened peak. “Oh, do you now?” The laugh he emits is dark. Makes a chill run down your spine. “Want my fat cock as deep inside you as it can go? Wanna bounce on top of me?”

You wanna smack the boastful smile off of his face. Wanna deny him of his accusations. But you can’t. All you do is bite your lip and nod your head. The filth of his words make you stir crazy.

Steve coats himself once more in your slick, partly to tease you but to make sure his length is lubed up enough not to hurt you. He slides in slowly and you swear you can even feel his protruding veins. When he’s sheathed, he wraps an arm around your back to keep you in place while he rolls so that you’re seated on top of him.

The sounds of your pleasured groans fill the room when you spread your legs and take him in deeper. He kneads your ass, encouraging you to move. You wanna tease him as he had done to you, but his dick hits all the right spots to make that thought leave your mind as you chase your orgasm. Your hips roll against his, and he thrusts his hips up to meet yours, causing a delicious friction for both of you.

He’s close. His jaw drops slightly and his eyes search yours with a silent plea.

A grin spread across your lips and you nod. “Cum for me, Steve. I’m right behind. Fill me up, baby.”

Steve sits up and holds you close, rutting his hips uncontrollably until he meets his release with a strained cry. As promised, you follow in suit, burying your face in the crook of his neck and letting your end run its course, shaking and convulsing in his arms.

Steve smooths over your hair and rests his forehead against yours, letting your breathing and heart rate return to normal.

“Worth the wait?” You whisper and raise a brow.

Steve’s smile is lazy and crocked as he nods. “Still got a few years to make up for. Tell Tony you’re still working on the mission. We can fuck on his dollar.”

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